


You call me sweet

by Mirilya



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale knows what she wants, Crowley can't deal, Cunnilingus, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Genderswap, Unbeta'd we die like women, sorry it's self indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-06-23
Packaged: 2020-05-18 08:35:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19330960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mirilya/pseuds/Mirilya
Summary: Crowley almost managed to hide the shiver of excitement that ran down her spine and the way her lips twisted up in a smirk. She was finally going to get to taste her sweet little angel.





	You call me sweet

**Author's Note:**

> For my beautiful fiancee, my very own bit-of-a-bastard angel.
> 
> Title from Queen's Sweet Lady.

Everything she did inevitably came back around to Aziraphale. From the beginning, the angel had shown there was a little spark of mischief in her that the demon found irresistible. Giving the flaming sword to the first couple was certainly done with good intentions, but for an angel to disobey a direct order was a tiny rebellion that sparked something in Crawly’s mind. While she certainly wasn't going to call the angel out on it, she definitely let that knowledge curl within her in something like satisfaction. From that moment in the garden she was hooked; Aziraphale was incredibly, infuriatingly endearing.

The time between their meetings had decreased significantly over the past millennia, and Crowley was finding it more and more difficult to keep away, like two heavenly bodies orbiting closer and closer to whatever _it_ was between them. Drawn like a moth to the flame, a fraternization that could get either or both of them killed should their respective sides find out. Crowley found she didn't care. Pranking and misguiding humans, giving them _options_ was fun. Teasing and exchanging banter and occasionally rescuing a bewildered Aziraphale was fun. Demons shouldn't _want_ to spend their time around angels, but as they grew closer, Crowley found their _arrangement_ to be extremely convenient and their infrequent meals together more pleasant than she'd ever let on. Hell could, well. Hell could go to hell, she hadn't had a specific assignment in _ages_ , just a lot of boring reports to her supervisors Down Below, and Crowley craved the sense of danger that came with flirting with the enemy, as it were.

Though it wasn't just flirting. She'd _fallen_ , then she'd fallen _hard_ for the oblivious angel. Crowley was devoted. This time, hopping back and forth on her feet while the searing heat of the consecrated ground threatened unpleasant blisters, she noticed Aziraphale's response. The angel's eyes kept flicking back to the demon in relieved disbelief, and once the bomb fell and they stood amidst the rubble, Crowley had to quickly walk away from the angel's reverent expression of joy at being handed a suitcase full of books, protected from the blast by a strategic demonic miracle. She wasn't used to facing positive emotions that strong, and as it was Crowley was nearly knocked over by the wave of _love_ that radiated from the angel in that moment, so strong that even a demon could feel it.

The offered lift home became a celebratory dinner and a fine vintage taken at the comfortable apartment above Aziraphale's bookshop. As dinner turned into a nightcap, liquor and conversation flowing freely, Crowley suddenly found herself with a lapful of angel, small fingers curled into the collar of her blouse as sweet, brandy-flavored lips pressed gently against hers. She froze in place, mind reeling that this was actually happening, especially with neither of them actually drunk enough for it to make a difference. The angel had taken it upon herself to express affection Crowley had craved for thousands of years, but long since dismissed as impossible. Aziraphale pulled back, smiling beatifically down into yellow serpentine eyes and so sure of herself, as if she already knew Crowley could do nothing but return the kiss.

As soon as the angel's brow began to crease with worry, as she opened her mouth to say "I'm sorry if I've misjudged-" Crowley came to her senses for long enough to surge upwards, vanishing their wine glasses into nothing as she threaded the fingers of one hand into soft blonde curls and brought their mouths together again. A part of her melted as Aziraphale hummed happily and touched her tongue to Crowley's lips, just testing. Crowley sighed, deepening the kiss and sending sparks like they had never felt through the both of them. She could taste the cream from the dessert they'd shared, rich and sweet and intoxicating in ways that had nothing to do with alcohol.

Crowley's other hand rested at Aziraphale's waist, the silk of the angel's blouse warm and tempting against her skin, and she brought her fingers upward in a gentle caress, skimming her soft belly before resting, feather-light, against the swell of her breast. She could feel Aziraphale smile into the kiss before pulling back to look her new lover with what she hoped passed for a serious expression.

"Angel, is this-" Crowley nearly choked on her question as Aziraphale leaned in, pressing the fullness of her breast into the demon’s hand; Crowley could feel the peak of her nipple distinctly through layers of fabric.

"Oh, don't stop now, my dear." Aziraphale gave a little wink, sending a rush of heat straight through Crowley, all her senses suddenly overwhelmed by sweet-smelling softness.

"An angel, tempting a demon? Never thought I'd see the day," Crowley managed a wry smile, after clearing her throat to speak more clearly.

Aziraphale’s smile didn’t waver. "Temptation? Certainly not. After all, I know you love me, and the feeling is mutual."

"How did you know that? And I'm a demon. We don't _do_ love." Crowley tried to frown, but found it incredibly difficult to keep pretending.

"But _you_ do. And you just told me," Aziraphale quipped with a brilliant smile. "Angels can sense love, you know, and it radiates off you in _waves_. And you're always so _nice_ to me."

Here Crowley did frown. "I'm not nice, I'm a bloody demon for hell's sake."

"You can say that all you like, but I can think of better things to do with that mouth of yours."

Crowley laughed suddenly, the absurdity of the situation finally catching up. "Sure thing, _angel_. We'll see if you can still be called that when I'm done with you."

"I look forward to it, my dear. But I’ll have you know there's nothing sinful about this, I'm afraid there was a bit of a misunderstanding early on."

Crowley almost managed to hide the shiver of excitement that ran down her spine and the way her lips twisted up in a smirk. She was finally going to get to taste her sweet little angel. No longer in a mood for chatting, she squeezed the soft flesh in her hand experimentally before tweaking the nipple she could feel pressing stiff between her fingers. At Aziraphale's little gasp, she started unbuttoning the angel's blouse, chuckling a little to herself at the delicate white lace concealed beneath. _How very… traditional._

Suddenly impatient, a tiny demonic miracle left the angel's chest bare, cool in the air of the apartment. Before a chill could truly catch, Crowley leaned forward and caught a pink nipple in her hot mouth. Aziraphale gasped and squirmed down against her lap as the demon sucked _hard_ , then flicked her tongue over the firm bud. "Oh, _Crowley…_ "

Unrelenting, she alternated little cooling licks and warm suckling, bringing her other hand up to play with the angel's other breast. Aziraphale continued to squirm and make the most delightful little sighs and squeaks. Crowley always found the angel's little noises of appreciation to be enticing, whether it was a little hum of delight on her first bite of French crepes, or a sigh of relief when someone finally left her bookshop without buying anything. She could feel herself growing wet between her legs just from the angel's sounds alone. She pulled back with a last lick, looking up at Aziraphale's flushed face.

"Angel, can I…" Crowley paused, hesitant out of habit.

"Hm?"

Crowley rolled her eyes at her own reluctance. "Angel, I'd like to taste you."

"Aren't you already?" Aziraphale looked down, eyes hooded with a bit of a dazed expression.

"No, angel. I'd like to _taste_ you. See if you're as sweet as you smell." She flicked her eyes down to her lap in indication, and trailed her fingers down to pluck at the waist of her skirt in case the message wasn't clear enough.

Aziraphale flushed a little brighter. "O-oh! Certainly. Um. How would-"

Crowley surged forward with the angel's agreement, pressing her back down into the sofa and kissing her deeply. She pulled back, leaving Aziraphale panting a bit, her bare breasts rising and falling gently. Crowley wasted no time rucking her skirt up around her waist and tracing her fingertips over the damp core of Aziraphale's (white lace, of course) panties. The angel let out a tiny whimper, biting her lip with a knowing flutter of lashes that spurred Crowley on to yank her panties down around her thighs and off, taking just enough time to free them from the garters holding up her stockings.

"Really, angel. Garters? Can't spare a little miracle to keep them up?"

"Hmm, can't go wasting miracles on things like stockings, there's enough trouble that needs them as it i-iiis-ahhh!"

The gentle teasing was a mere distraction, enough time for Crowley to lean forward and press her mouth to the apex of Aziraphale's thighs, flicking her tongue against her experimentally. The experiment was a rousing success, and lifting one of the angel's legs over her shoulder to get a better angle, she began to suck gently, lavishing Aziraphale's clit with attention. Aziraphale's whimpers got louder as Crowley’s tongue flicked into her and she gasped, writhing against the sofa in her passion.

"Oh, mmh, my darling, you-"

"Hmm?" Crowley hummed against her core with a wicked grin, drawing a breathy gasp out of the angel.

"You're so wonderful, my dear, my dearest." Aziraphale began babbling as she drew closer to her peak. She brought one hand up to pet Crowley's hair, and with the last bit of her concentration brought the other up to grip the back of the sofa to keep herself from falling off as her wings manifested, filling the space beneath them with fluffy white down.

Crowley drank in the cacophony of joy her angel was making, pleased beyond words, and pressed her thighs together against her own arousal. With a rapid flick of her now forked tongue, she sent her angel cascading over the edge, her choked whimpers blending with Crowley's name as Aziraphale shook with the force of her orgasm. Continuing to lick firmly against her clit, Crowley didn't stop until the angel tugged insistently at her hair.

"Darling, you can-ahh! S-stop, please."

Crowley sat up, her face shiny, grinning wickedly as if she'd just gotten away with stealing and eating the juiciest, most forbidden fruit in the garden. _And she had._

"Oh my dear, that was...  _wonderful_."

Aziraphale panted blissfully, face flushed a soft pink and her eyes warm with joy, her hair fluffed out in a soft halo around her head that glowed in the lamplight. "Come here." Aziraphale pulled Crowley down, their mouths colliding messily in a languid kiss. Pulling back, she giggled at how rumpled and wild Crowley looked in her flustered state, blown pupils reducing her golden irises to crescents. "Mm, now it's your turn, my darling."

Crowley just grinned. They had plenty of time.


End file.
